Crush Velvet
by schyra
Summary: Originally written because Umi Chii said I could do nothing but Fluff. Enjoy..? LuciaHaru, AU


**Title:** Crush Velvet

**Author:** schyra

**Rating:** R / M

**Pairing:** surprise?

**Warnings:** If you're easily squicked, don't look. .;

**Summary:** But don't you see? he cried. I love you!

**Author's Note:** Because apparently all I can do is Fluff. D:

--~~~-oOo-~~~--

**Crush Velvet**

_But don't you see? he cried. I love you!_

I wonder what he will smell like, when I burn him. Fire can do such lovely, lovely things, and with a bit of elixir after, no one will ever know the marks had been there. No one but him, and every time he looks at a candle or a brief flicker of flame in the wind he will wince and look away. He will remember the pain of hot wax and ashes.

I wonder what he will taste like when I bite him. I'll sink my teeth into his flesh, hear him cry and shudder beneath me, trying to fight the pain as his precious, _precious_ life blood floods into my mouth. I bet it will taste sweet. I bet it will taste like wine. I bet he'll make a little sound when I run my tongue over the wound and press my lips to it, drinking in that deep, deep red. I will probably bite too deep. I never know my own strength, and the white sheets will be stained an even prettier color.

I want him to fear me.

I want to put my foot in his face as he looks up at me, hopeful. But don't you see? he cried. I love you. I love you! The fool dancing round a tarot card. I want to kick him down, once again. I want to hurt him, once again.

I want to run my fingers through his hair as he kneels at my feet, begging and begging. _'Master,'_ he will say. _'Master, I love you, I'll never leave you, you're my keeper and lover I'm sorry, I'll never, never again, oh God, oh God... please don't leave me.'_ He will kiss my ankles, run his fingers reverently over my toes and trace with his lips a path up to my waist. Whispering and pleading all the while. The sound like music to my ears. He won't go any farther, not until I tell him to. He will kneel, on that cold, hard, stone floor, the chill biting into his knees and he will _beg._

He will fear retribution when I still my hand. Cry out in terror and shame when I grab his soft locks and hurl him to the floor. Or kick him into bed. Whatever suits my fancy. His hands will shake, clenching the sheets, wanting to flee, to run, but he will be too captivated, too fearful. And there will be nowhere to run to. His face will be a portrait in horror but his eyes.. his eyes will be the picture of lust. He will look at me with want in his eyes, because that is what I am.

I am his want.

I am his star in the night, the warmth in the cold, the shelter from the storm, the only light in the shadow. To him, I am his world. I am his savior.

Even as he loathes me, as he wants to run from me, as he panics and thinks to flee... he will look at me with eyes of wanton desire. The need, the _burning,_ wells up from deep inside his chest, rushing up and out as tears that gather like dead men on his lids and hang from his lashes. Here there will be nowhere to run to but into a cage.

Nowhere but back to me, and he will always want to return.

He will want me, and fear me, and love me so very, _very_ much.

When I pin him to the bed, he cries out, arching back and away. He doesn't want to come near me. But he can't bear my letting go. My beautiful, helpless, _trapped_ little bird. Let me run my fingers down your back, my nails like claws tearing at your skin. Pain seeping into your features, the cold and damp in your bones, you will look at me, always, always at me... captivated. You will care and not care that I am painting a picture... beautiful long lines along your skin. I will dig my nails lovingly into your flesh and you will wince, bite your lip in pain.... and arch into my touch.

Slowly, you will give in.

Tenderly, I will break you.

"Who owns you?" I whisper, feeling your need, feeding my own. " ..N-no.." You will try to deny me, I know it. You always do. You'll writhe and struggle, attempting to get away when my hands rip your clothes, tear them to shreds and throw them away to reveal you, to bare you before me. The tears will leak from your eyes as you desperately try to deny me possession over you, leaving wet trails. Ah, but my dear, I've already won. You were mine the moment I laid eyes on you. My dear, darling pet.

Haven't I claimed you many times before?

I'm grinning, harshly, mercilessly. I love it. You're so, so beautiful. So fragile, and marred. I did that to you. I hurt you. You're mine.

I palm your need, pressing against it and you cry out in love, in pain. You loathe my touch, You crave it. I move my hand, slowly, steadily, up and down...never grasping, but feeling along your length. Fanning the flames of your desire. Slowly, slowly... I'm setting the embers alight. You stop struggling then, or you still struggle, but weakly. You moan behind clenched teeth, finger clasping desperately at my forearms. Your body twitches and writhes in arousal. "Oh, oh my darling...." I caress the inside of your thigh, trail wet kisses along your jaw. You almost weep before me. It is not long before I have you panting beneath me, moaning for more.

You want me.

I can feel it, quite literally. It radiates off your frame, despite your brave attempts to hold it in, and my hand moves slicker now along your length. But no, not yet. Not yet, not yet.

I can't let you be sated yet. That's too easy, my dear. It's too good for you. I want you to suffer.

I reach beside the bed, pull open a drawer. I have a surprise for you tonight. A special treat for my special toy. Darling, angel. Look what I have for you.

It's a whip. One of my best, I might add. The barbed ends leave three-tipped marks on anything it strikes, and they look quite stunning, like crow's feet, on your skin. I rise from the bed, and you panic. You've seen what I hold in my hand. You clutch at the sheets in fear, twisting them in your grip. You try to curl away from me, try to backpedal over the bed. What is it my pet, you don't like my present?

_'Master,'_ you say. _'No... no, I'm sorry, I won't do it again.'_ The plea in your eyes. _'Never, never... it was wrong of me, I'm sorry. Please, have mercy, master I beg you.'_ The promises, they fall like dark jewels from your lips. They once meant so much to me. _'I'll stay, I'll stay, never, never.'_ You don't like my present.

I smile, softly, tenderly.

Cruelly.

Too bad.

I raise my hand.

_'I'm sorry. I'm sorry, please don't!'_

I let it descend, and the sound it makes as it connects with your flesh is most satisfying indeed. I bring it down, again and again, harshly, mercilessly. I don't miss a beat. I want to wrench that sound from you, hear it over and over again, like a record on repeat. You don't disappoint. With every lash, you writhe, trembling on the bed, screaming and pleading with me to stop, stop. The sheets are dyed, soaked with your blood, and with each stroke it becomes more tainted.... a richer color. It is a canvas of your suffering.

It begs to be framed and hung up in my room.

I keep up the punishment, and the leather cord becomes slick with blood and sweat, glimmering in the darkness. I know this from experience, not because I looked. This time, I don't take my eyes off you. Finally, when I stop, you are a sodden, quivering, bleeding mess on my bed.

You're not pleading anymore. You're sobbing, miserable and broken, weak and powerless beneath me, where you belong. You have earned my displeasure and you will pay for it. It's a lesson you have learnt before. Sometimes, I just have to remind you of it.

I run my finger along the hilt that rests in my hand. It's ornate, carved out of black marble and sapphire so deep a shade of blue it's almost gray. Really, a work of art. It's curved, and that gives me an idea. "Pet...," I say. You shake, and quiver. Your shuddering begins anew. A cry hitches in your chest. You're afraid.

What sweet, sweet fear.

"Darling," I whisper, and slide next to you on the bed. The mattress dips with my weight, and the blood seeps from the sheets onto my fingers. You shrink away from me, trembling, and I grab your shoulder with one hand and force you down. I dip my head next to yours and whisper in your ear. "Have you learnt your lesson, pet?" You choke back a whine, expecting more punishment. You don't try to push me off, because you're too tired, too trained by now. Weak. So pathetically weak.

However did someone like you ever manage in life?

You sink down into the bed as I cover your body with mine. You're staring into my eyes with such fear. Ah, ah, I love it. I love it. Your beautiful, lovely pain. Give it to me, all of it. Let me watch you suffer in my grasp. Twist and writhe as I smother you with my fingertips, daring you to break my hold. You'll never do it. You're too weak to.

You're mine.

With a click, the cord of the whip disconnects from the handle and falls like a snake to the bed. You're confused. What am I doing now?

"Pet," I say again, a hint of malice seeping into my voice. "Have you learnt your lesson?"

_'..Y-Yes..,'_ you manage to say, through the pain, the fear. I smile wanly. That's good. I have a reward for you. Running the hilt along your side, digging it's cool hardness into your hip, I lubricate the handle with your blood. You lie still, utterly still, save for your shaking, and are perplexed. And afraid of what I will do next. Poor pet, you will never know me well enough to predict my actions.

Despite wanting to. Despite it being better for you to.

I draw back, settling myself on your hips. I reach behind me, eyes fixed on your face, and press the hilt at your entrance. You stiffen, utterly terrified and realizing in a rush what it is I'm a bout to do. I smile, because you can't stop me. I push it inside you, slowly at first, and you cry out at the pain. It hurts. Poor pet. I run the fingers of my other hand over your chest to distract you, drawing patterns in your blood. I should make this easier on you. I push in harder. By the time I'm halfway in, you're panting beneath me, sobbing through grit teeth.

That's fine. No more.

My turn now.

I shift back further, angling your hips. I loop an arm around one of your legs, fingers digging into your thigh. I trail butterfly kisses down the inside of your leg and lick leisurely along your length. You taste slightly bitter, and like salt. Dipping lower, I circle your hole with my tongue, and you squirm and make little noises, hands clenching sporadically on the bed. My hand finds a way around your waist and up to your penis, and I stroke it in long, slow motions. The blood and precum mingle with your sweat. It's not at all a bad sensation.

"_..Aa...aaa...aaaaaahhh..."_

What a lovely sound.

I rise up, abandoning your need, and bend your legs forward a little. You look up at me blearily, mind clouded with arousal. I smile, and rake the nails of one hand down the back of your thigh. You moan, and I know my mixed signals make your sound of pain into one of ecstasy.

Shifting forward, making sure I'm at the right angle, I prepare for the next part of my plan. Slowly, I press down on the other end of the hilt. I moan, long and low, as the cool rod enters me. You cry out, voice quivering, as the handle is pushed deeper inside you. Bit by bit, we inch together. I stop. It's deep, and the cold within me feels good. I'm burning up.

We both stop for a moment, breathing heavily.

Ever so slightly you shake, and the briefest of moans issues from your lips. Impatient? I smile. Raising myself up and slowly lowering myself down again, I set a rhythm. You gasp, back unable to arch in our position, and look up at me with your teary, lust-filled eyes.

You're incredibly turned-on by this, aren't you?

"Mmmmm...," the sound presses through my lips. "..ooooOoohh.."

It feels so good to fuck you like this.

"_..Aaah... aaaah.... ahh...!!"_

So, _so_ good.

Leaning my head back, I close my eyes, savoring the moment, the feel of the cold within me, hearing your gasps, moans and cries. You toss your head wildly form side to side. _"..Aaa..aAAAaaAAHH!!"_ My lovely pet. I want to paint pictures on your chest with your blood again but in this position it's kind of awkward.

A hand drifts up as I stroke myself, and you're watching me, I know you are. I can feel your eyes, burning with need, with desire. You want me, don't you? In some deep, dark part of you, no matter how broken, you wish you could take the lead, to throw me down on this bed and ravish me until I can't move, can't do anything but scream your name in ecstasy.

Weak.

I'm nearing completion. With every downward thrust, every stroke of my fingertips, I draw closer and closer. So are you. Just watching me touch myself is turning you on, driving you mad. Trembling, you raise a hand to stroke your own length. Your eyes never leave mine. I can see the shame lurking in them, and the pride. Your furious, bleeding pride that you always had too much of.

I stroke myself harder, amused as you follow suit. Trying to match me, pet?

A white flash behind my eyes.

I'm close.

"..AaaaAAAaaaahh....," I cry. In my need, in my wanton rush, I lean forward to look at you. Panting and needy. The truth is, you love this, don't you? You may fear me, you may hate me, but you love this, don't you?

Ah, yes. So close... the end.

In a breathless gasp, it escapes.

"...Lucia..."

A pant. A moan.

"Say it again."

"...Luc...ia..."

Hard to breathe, I'm burning, I'm burning.

"Ah, pet. Louder, louder. I can't hear you."

My sight blurs at the edges. Gray...

"Lucciiia..aaa..!!"

I buck wildly, the room fades, the world fades, and you with it, and they reappear again. The bed is not before me, but behind me. What little of the room I can see is obscured from my view. I'm down, looking up. You're in front of me. On top of me. Ah.

I hate it.

Your grin, threatening and triumphant. Thrusting harder, deeper... it burns. Your fingers leave long, red marks that hurt and bruise the following morning. Your teeth are sharp. Your eyes, locked on mine.

I hate it.

Back in my cage.

I hate it.

I hate it.

"Say you love me, pet."

"Lu..ciaa..aa," it's all I can muster. The look in your eyes. I hate it. "Haruu...." Drawing out the last syllable of my name. A hiss. ".... say it." I'm scared. "..Aanhnhnh.... hnnnnnn...aaah!!" I'm always pulled back, just as it's getting good. Just as I finally, finally, win over you.

I hate it.

"Nngghhh..!! Aaahhh..!"

Your vice-like grip, the iron bars to hold my soul.

"AAAHH!!"

I hate it.

I hate it.

"..Haru..."

I want to kick you down, once again. I want to hurt you, once again.

The need burns inside me, like fire.

I love you.

_I hate it._

I hate you so, _so _much.

With a final thrust, you hiss, a long, drawn-out sound, and I feel it. It floods me, like hot lava, seeping into every inch of my insides. The pressure breaks, and I'm tipped into the pleasurable rush of orgasm. My own spreads on your hand, on our mid-sections, warm and sticky. Breathing hard, you pull out and collapse upon me, pinning me, crushing me beneath your weight.

You smile, deadly. Like poison.

"Were you daydreaming, my pet?"

Oh, you cruel, cruel liar.

- - -

**END.**


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